More Deaf Kids

 " Yeah, it's kind of a folkadelic, rodeocore, easy listening, black metal, late sixties vibe...pretty sure you'll love it."

The two pasty, zit faced punks were sweating profusely. The full body, Care Bear pajamas must have been made of 100% polyester. They looked itchy. The one that was speaking was the slightly taller of the two.

" I mean, it's destiny man. We are gonna cut this demo and...uh, yeah. It's gonna happen. So we, like, need the ten thousand dollars, then we'll play the song for you. 'cause you know, we want you to know you're getting your money's worth."

On the other side of the lobby, huddled outside the office of business banking specialist Sheila Grating, a security guard  and the branch VP Quentin Ovputtig were looking on.  They were not really clear on what was happening. The porcine VP pressed the security guard, Odell.

"Did you let these clowns in here? What the fuck are they doing?"

"I think they's robbin' us boss!"

"Robbing us! Ha! Sure looks like a robbery! Just get them the hell out of here, will you?" 

Odell shrugged and obediently stalked over to the taller Care Bear. Neither of them appeared to be armed with anything other than the guitars they were carrying. And a lot of chutzpah.

"Hey, Hiya Sonny. Listen, ya'll can't come in here raisin' a ruckus like this..."

"Hey yerself. Nice uniform, man.", said the smaller Care Bear.

"Uh... yeah, thanks. Look man, I'm gonna have to ask you fellas to go now, or we gonna have call 5-O, ya dig?"

The first of the pair replied, "Whoa! That's bogus dude! Ya know the sign outside said come and talk to us about the loan to fulfill your dreams and fit your means. We thought thats what you did here."

It hardly lasted longer than the blink of an eye, but just that instant Odell was stunned like he had been whacked with a board. There was still that part of his brain that was determined to get these two little freaks out of the bank. And keep his job. He didn't really want to call the cops. They seemed harmless kids really. This was probably some fraternity stunt. Still, the response took his breath and the moment he recovered he could only hear his own voice blurt out "Say what now?"

The smaller Care Bear with an eye for private security apparel cried out, "Yeah! We were just talkin' with Julie here about one of them loans. Right over there, see? Nice girl with the gap in her teeth....wave Julie!" He waved at Julie and went on, "She's really doing a great job. You should probably promote her. Hey! That reminds me... if I wanted to get that job at the bank, like McDuck, ya know? The guy who counts all the money? What kinda college do ya gotta have for that?"

Odell's head was spinning, the room was spinning. This was getting out of control fast. Care Bear number two was prattling on like John Cooper Clarke on a meth binge. And then he heard it. The great, blustering bellow of that pompous ass. Ovputtig was waddling their way. He was a large man and when he waddled it was no ordinary waddle. It was like Porky Pig with a really extreme case of inflamed hemorrhoids.

"Chatham! I told you to get those idiots out of here! Do it now, or I'll...uhnn...aaaoggh....gaack!....", and then he hit the floor. Quentin Ovputtig, the legendary president of the Gurnee, IL chapter of the Society of Norwegian-Americans, had collapsed from a mild heart attack. All four-hundred-twenty-two pounds of him. Too much salted herring. Over at her teller window Julie shrieked in terror.

Care Bear number one unclipped the sling of his guitar and leaned it against the counter at Julie's window. "It'll be okay Julie, I know what to do. Everybody stay back! I know CPR!"

In a flash he was atop Ovputtig, alternately performing chest compression and mouth to mouth while everyone else looked on in disbelief. Thankfully there was at least one person back behind the counter who had enough wits about them to phone 911. Care Bear number one's pajamas were brown, a light brown like Fozzie Bear. You could still see the shit stain in the seat.

He continued his resuscitation efforts for several minutes, periodically checking for a pulse. A worried murmur began to rise around him from the bank employees looking on. Odell had steadied himself and remained at his side. He sure didn't care much for Ovputtig, but he didn't want to see a man go out like a bitch. Finally, after one of his checks Care Bear called out victorious, "WE HAVE A PULSE!". The squad had just arrived at the front door.

A strange thing happened then. Instead of climbing off of the mound of a man Care Bear number one continued to...apply mouth to... mouth. Like, a really long time. By the time the EMTs got to him Care Bear was french kissing the VP like a sophomore with a new pack of breath mints. They had to drag him off of the man before administering any further aid.

Care Bear number one stood aside. He wiped his mouth with a pajama sleeve. "Uh, yeah. You're welcome! So... anybody still wanna hear the song?"

It seems they then left the bank without further incident. The EMTs found a card on Ovputtig with a note and a phone number.

it was good for me. call me

Kevin

That was in Gurnee, IL on Thursday. They have ditched the Safari van, last seen in a U-Haul headed towards Chicago. My gut tells me they are headed for Markle, IN, but really they could be anywhere by now. I don't know their true mission. I'm sure it's about more than a record demo. These Deaf Kids from New Guinea are a menace. The little bastards terrify me and until they are found I'm not sure any of us are safe.